Monday, September 21, 2009

Check Your Bathrobe

I am filth in a striped jumper.

I am Eros in polyester; Cupid with a keyboard.

A wettening, a fattening, a rush of blood
nether, a twist of a nipple, a feather
tracing insouciance.

I am your ignored urges; thoughts entertained, stripped and fucked.

A stinging slap, hot wax, a lingering
grope, raw ankles scored ragged by rope,
ball-gagged and bound.

I am Russian pornography, pixelated, plotless; sweat with a thousand-dollar budget.

I’m a maiden taken, a ballgown torn, a husband
seduced, three lipstick lesbians reduced
to two stabbing planes of motion.

I am your second spouse; that first finger.

I’m a glance, a laugh, a come-hither static
touch, a playful spark sucking your soul
from the end of your finger.

I am your favourite loss of control.

I’m the best friend you never had.

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